Emilie Richards - The Color Of Light

“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” Analiese said, getting that out of the way immediately. “But you startled us. How did you get in?”

The girl glared and didn’t answer. Analiese could see her well enough to note she hadn’t yet moved beyond the gawky phase of early adolescence. Her long hair was wet, as if she might have just washed it in the sink, but it looked to be brown. Her face was heart-shaped, and she had a small, Kewpie-doll mouth with lips turned down in dislike. She was too thin, and she hadn’t yet grown into features that might someday come together nicely.

“I’m sorry.” The man stepped forward to stand beside the girl. “We mean no harm. Shiloh here had to use the restroom, and the door—” He gestured to his right. “Well, somebody didn’t lock it. I guess it was wrong to go in, but we made sure to clean up after we did.”

“Why are you here?” Ethan stood beside Analiese, but not to protect her. Analiese knew he saw what she did. If these people were a danger to anybody, it was only to themselves.

This time the girl answered. “We just needed a place to spend the night.”

“Why did you choose this place?” he asked.

The woman behind them began to cough. Analiese was no judge, but to her ears, the cough sounded both painful and debilitating. Nobody spoke until the cough died away, and by then Analiese suspected Ethan had his answer.

“Your wife is sick?” she asked the man.

“She’s all right. We have cough medicine,” the girl answered for him.

“Has she seen a doctor?”

The girl answered again. “We’re taking care of her.”

“Your name is Shiloh?” Analiese asked, then went on before the girl answered. “You didn’t have a better place to stay tonight? I can’t help but think your mother won’t get better sleeping in a tent. The temperature’s dropping.”

“She’ll sleep in the car,” Shiloh said. “That’s why we need the tent. And we aren’t hurting anybody. We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

They were hurting her . Analiese could feel their pain, their helplessness, their fears. Nobody set up a tent on the grounds of a church in late November because camping out sounded like fun.

“Why don’t you pack up the tent and I’ll take you to a motel for the night?” Ethan said. “My treat. It will be warm, and we’ll buy some food on the way.”

“We’ve eaten, thanks,” the man said. “And we couldn’t trouble you that way.”

“It would be no trouble,” Ethan said. “You’re not in a good situation here.”

The man didn’t hesitate. “It wouldn’t be right to take your money that way.”

Analiese heard resolve and something else in his voice. The man was at his wit’s end. She recognized that. The only thing he could hold on to was a shred of pride that told him taking another man’s offer of charity, a man who had clearly done better with his own life, would destroy him.

She extended her hand to him. “I’m sorry. We didn’t introduce ourselves. My name is Analiese Wagner, and this is Ethan Martin. I’m the minister here. And you are?”

His handshake was tentative and trembling. She wondered how much he’d had to eat. “Herman Fowler. Everybody calls me Man.”

“And you’re Shiloh?” She turned, hand still extended.

The girl looked at her, looked at her hand, looked back up at Analiese’s face, then, with reluctance, gave a quick handshake.

“And you’re Mrs. Fowler?” Analiese asked the older woman.

“Belle.” The woman wiped her hand on the side of a faded dress that stretched tightly across her hips and breasts, and grimly held it out. Despite having watched her cough into that same hand Analiese shook it without flinching.

The boy stepped forward. He was the only one of the four who didn’t seem to realize that this situation was both awkward and possibly dangerous for his family. “I’m Dougie. Are ladies ministers?”

“We certainly can be.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. She thought he might be younger than he looked. Physically he was more like his mother than his father, broad-shouldered and moonfaced. She could see a resemblance to his sister, but it was subtle.

“How long have you been in Asheville?” she asked Man.

“A while now.”

“Have you looked into some of the social services available? Because the city tries to find housing for people who need it.”

“We don’t fit their rules.”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She had just returned from a rally where she had spoken to a crowd about the need for more housing and help. Did she really need to be hit over the head?

“So you’ve tried. You’ve spoken to people who could help?”

“There’s no place for all of us,” Shiloh said. “You think we just sat around and hoped somebody would show up and buy us a house? Of course we tried!”

“You be nice, Shiloh,” Belle said. “You been taught to be nice.”

Analiese was quite certain Shiloh didn’t want to be nice. She could relate to that, having felt that way herself more than once today. And now, with the answer to this problem as clear as the answer to a prayer she hadn’t even prayed, she knew she would experience many moments in the immediate future when she didn’t want to be nice again.

A host of people were going to be unhappy with what she was about to do.

“I’m sorry, but I had to ask,” she said. “I know housing for families is hard to find.”

“We’ll pack up and go,” Man said. “We would appreciate it if you wouldn’t get the police involved.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Analiese said. “There’s an apartment upstairs on the third floor. Nobody’s living in it right now. You won’t be taking anything that belongs to anybody else, but it would be my pleasure to see it being used tonight. It’s warm and dry, and there are enough beds, I think, although you’ll need your sleeping bags, because I doubt we have sheets. Then if you’ll let me help, I’ll see if I can find somebody to help you get back on your feet.”

Man began to protest, but she held up her hand. “Please, it’s not charity. Everything’s already there just waiting for you. It won’t cost anybody anything, and your wife needs a good night’s sleep.”

“Analiese...” Ethan’s voice held a note of warning.

He was right to worry. She was going out on a limb here. She didn’t know these people, and she was inviting them to stay in the parish house without consulting a single church leader. The present council was the most contentious she had ever worked with and needed special handling, but she didn’t have time to track down the right people, wait while they secretly conversed about what a problem their minister could be, and then finally got around to calling her back with a list of rules she had to follow.

This family didn’t have time.

She smiled at Ethan. “Can you help the Fowlers bring their things up to the third floor? We can all carry something.”

“It’s nice of you and all...” Man’s voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the words to say no.

She took that as a yes. “Where are you parked? Why don’t you move your car next to mine?” She pointed to the staff parking area.

“Daddy, she wants to do this. Let her,” Shiloh said.

Man’s shoulders slumped, but he gave a slight nod.

Analiese had already suspected, but now she knew for certain where the power in this family lay. If she could get Shiloh on her side, she could make things happen. She turned her attention to the girl. “We had a church Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, and the leftovers went into the refrigerator. If I bring them up, will you heat them for your family? I know you ate, but who can resist leftover turkey sandwiches?”